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Born From Naught But Smoke and Shadow
The edge of the camp was awash with dirty fire light that belched smoke into the air all around, dirty orange flickers of light catching at the hard edges of erected barricade and half collapsed buildings, people rendered into half drawn shadows amongst the darkness. Here and there the odd bright white light of an electric bulb would pulse at the corner of a door way or in a single room above the debris strewn street, those figures caught at its edge revealed for but a moment to be men and women swaddled in cloaks and wraps devoid of any insignia but all bearing the same murderous intent in their eyes. In one spot a trio of mercenaries would cut through the crackling silence in a flurry of snarled words and quicker drawn blades splattering the rockcrete surface around them in fresh wet splashes as a new corpse joined the incalculable dead that littered the ruins all over. Others would barely acknowledge it with but a short side long glance, before carrying on with their own interests as the camp settled once more into the smog wreathed embrace that would cause so many to never give it more than a seconds of thought before leaving the dark little camp as they moved on. Sat at the gate two roughly hewn guards would stand by a barrel burning scraps of ancient wood and old flasks of barely distinguishable oils as they grumbled to one another, one eye on the darkness around them whilst the other more intently eyed the drink they had stashed to one side. A half barked order would catch their attention every so often to the point they would leave their fire side rests and slowly make their way round the edge of the camp or disappear inside the crudely built gate to be replace a few minutes later by another pair of equally grumbling figures in a mockery of a change of the guard. Beyond this supposed cordon of safety sat in the centre of the inky camp hidden amongst the half life other figures moved about in small groups, the strangled rasps of breath mixed between the chinking of chains as filthy figures wrapped in scraps of clothing moved too and fro carrying and labouring under the watchful eye of another cloaked figure. To each side great crude cages lined the centre to a stage of sorts where other chained figures sat huddled together with nought but each other for some form of warmth, small jostling groups moving from cage to cage inspecting these groups before a deluge of noise and flashes of hands would see a number scribed onto the front of the crate and the chained figures within brutally shuffled off by more wrapped figures. Watching this from just short of a kilometre away another figure let the scope of their rifle drop for a second to another position just short of the western side of the camp if you could even call it that. Here a tower had come down generations ago during the fall and had lay undisturbed since then, its inhabitants long gone and long dead in all likelihood, now new figures waited in the shadows it provided as they were cloaked from view by all those without the sight to see through the smoke and dirt that floated in the air for miles around, providing a perfect fog for those that worked in the shadows. Panning their scope back they could see a secondary group carefully making their way around to the southern side of the camp where the barricades had been placed too close to the nearest buildings allow any lookouts to see someone moving up on the wall. Now this group was interesting they mused as the lead element wore the same gear and weapons as he did, but the rest of the band was made up of the followers to two others, outsiders with their own markings and personalised armour. Both wore their allegiance proudly as did their bands of followers, the stark contrast between the clean and quiet of his fellow soldiers and the cellborn duo was as unmistakeable as if they were two entirely separate languages, but in this moment the differences didn’t matter. They had proved themselves enough that they had been given a chance to join them in this hunt, their jointly hated target within their grasp without them even knowing where the blow would land. Shifting his stance slightly the figure realigned his rifle until he had the patrolling pair of guards sat square in his cross hairs, watching their movements they slouched and bumbled along until one stop to relieve himself as the other continued on until they were out of sight of one another, slowing his breathing he made an adjustment to the scope of his rifle, holding still as the sound of the air around him he pulled the trigger. Barely a second later he was rewarded with a single stab of light lost amongst the dark mixed with a spurt of red from the guards eye socket as the plasma encased round punched through his targets head and exiting out of the back with barely a wisp of sound. The guards corpse crumpled into the ground as he was already adjusting his sight once more to the other guard who had come back to look for their companion, joining them in the quiet of the grave a moment later as another round punctured their worn rigs shielding and exited through their back taking most of the guards heart with it. Another kill on a tally that only he knew as the secondary group moved into the sight of his scope he thought to himself, the lead figure silent signalling the rest into position with a few hand signals, the cellborn duo and their fellows marshaling up into a wedge formation ready for the breach as a pair of his fellow soldiers moved into position and attached a pack to the wall. A soft pulse in his ear drew his attention back to the first group as they seemed to vibrate in the air and disappear in a rippling wave before him, decades of this work drew his eye to the west wall as in a flash several coordinated bursts of weapons fire brutally and efficiently cut down any standing on look out, before a section of the wall imploded and collapsed as the fog of smoke seemed to come alive with phantoms cutting down any and all how rose to face the onslaught of fire. At the same time on the southern wall at the sound of the first major detonation the pack attached to the wall detonated, its explosion masked by the others as the secondary group rapidly and cleanly breached the camp perimeter and spilled in under a wave of cellborn war cries and ghostly apportions of weapons fire from his cloaked fellows amongst them. The separatists for their part simply died in droves as they rushed to flee in any direction they could, what few guard rose to try and fight back being mercilessly cut down as both assault groups swept through the camp. To the northern most edge a side gate was thrown open and a small band of figures attempted to flee into the surrounding darkness surrounding a central figure, settling himself he made a correction to the scopes dials and followed them up a debris littered road until thinking they were safe they stopped to consult the figure in their midst, resting the cross hair over their face he let a cruel smile split across his face as he pulled the trigger once more and the Separatist leader’s head evaporated into naught but blood, bone and brain matter as they opened their mouth to speak, killed by nothing more than shadows in the smoke before their minions very eyes... Summary: Whilst the various cultures of the ruins wage their own wars amongst themselves and against the mutants spawn from the darkness of the former colony, there rages wars of secrets and of loyalties split between those that walk amongst the shadows. Invisible hands guide and twist the path's opened and closed to those that would be involved, but to those few that can tread these path and navigate the webs of half truths mixed amongst the echoes of long forgotten lies treasures await. (Note: Those players currently involved with this ongoing plot, you will be contacted via your player packs, please report to GOD at 5:30 before time in for briefing) Back to Downtimes